Turning Tables
by newyorktopaloalto
Summary: "There were three rules that Carlos made sure to adhere to when transforming into Jennifarlos: one, determination; two, appearance; and three, indifference." Eventual Jarlos. Angst.
1. Prologue

A/N: My first BTR fic. This is the prologue, so don't think that it's over. Line breaks don't work, so I have shitty looking ones for right now.

Warnings: Angst. Like, seriously. Thrace scale level nine. Major Carlos whumpage (the psychological kind, not the physical.) And if any of you are old enough to know what I mean when I say that, four for you. Also, there is some cursing.

Disclaimer: I do not own BTR, nor will I ever, as it belongs to the masterminds at Nickelodeon studios. I also do not own the concept from which this fic came from, which belongs to the lovely folkloric-feel over at LJ.

*Jennifarlos*

Carlos wasn't stupid. Just because he didn't advertise his intelligence like Logan, or his ingenuity like Kendall, or even his street-smarts like James, didn't make him the dumb one. But most people thought that way, preferred it that way, so he kept out of the spotlight, kept out of the way of his friends who were more. More inventive, more interesting, more normal, just more. And most of the time he was okay with that.

However, there were some days where all he wanted to do was shout from the rooftops: 'I'm here! I'm here! I exist! I'm not a screw up! I'm not just someone three talented people picked up from the side of the road! I contribute, I do!'

It was hard to believe, though, because the more he thought about it, the less he believed the words himself.

And so he sat, reading Harry Potter and the Chronicles of Narnia in the emptiness that was the top platform of the swirly slide, wishing that he, too, could go to a magical place where everything turned out alright in the end. But no matter how hard he wished, how long he hoped, his dreams never came true.

Sometimes noise would interrupt his musings and he would peer down, nonchalant with a small grin plastered—fake, to his face. Most of the time it was Katie or Ms. Knight. Sometimes it was Kendall or Logan. Almost rarely was it James.

So seeing James, smirking 10 feet below him, his hand raised in a small wave, always made him a little nervous, stomach a little jumpy. And though he knew, intellectually, that it wasn't a normal reaction to having your best friend smiling at you, Carlos pretended that it only had to do with the fact that James was the most likely to figure out what he was doing on the slide. (He couldn't convince himself of this either, but he tried his damndest.)

While being in LA made Logan and Kendall closer, their co-dependency all the more obvious, it did the opposite to James and Carlos. Sure, there were times where everything seemed like it was normal (like when he and James were the Party Kings of Party, or whatever James called it) but most of the time James would be doing his own, big star, thing and Carlos would try, desperately, for something to occupy his sudden influx of free time.

And then James turned orange. Not in the mythical way where if you ate too many oranges (or was it carrots?) you would turn orange. No, one day he came into the Palm Woods, literally orange coloured. After suffering through a speech about tanning "with the big boys," Carlos resigned himself to the fact that the James who was in LA with them, was not, nor ever would be, the James that played hockey in Minnesota with them.

The James of old liked Carlos, could have loved him if given half a chance, Carlos knew this without a doubt. However, the new LA version of James wanted someone more. Wanted someone who could treat James like the diva he wanted to be, all the while being a diva them self. Carlos could do neither of those things, if only for the facts that he had known James since his before his diva stage, when he was still playing in the sandbox, digging for China like the rest of them. Secondly, Carlos wasn't a diva, he just wasn't. He could never become a pop persona that James would want in a potential life partner.

So Carlos would sit, smiling brightly at the anecdotes James gave after his successful, or less likely, unsuccessful, dates. He would sit, attempting to be a best friend that James didn't need anymore. He would sit, alone, because Kendall and Logan had each other and he didn't want to be the third wheel he knew he was becoming. He would sit, waiting, for James to realize that he was still there, even though it would never happen.

But then Kelly mentioned the "Hollywood Fever" theory, and Carlos suddenly had a plan. He didn't have to wait anymore. He didn't have to sit in the metaphorical dark that he was currently in. His plan was cemented when he saw Kendall running after James, super soaker in hand, trying to, unsuccessfully, drench water onto their orange friend. The scene was something he expected to see, just like their paintball fights back home. What he didn't expect to see, however, was the joy James wore upon his face, as if happy that Kendall was trying to set him back to normal. Joy that Carlos hadn't been able to put on his face for months.

So he turned to the Jennifers, one on each side of him, and said he would do it. They looked pleased, the one on the right giving him a sympathetic look, as if she knew why he had suddenly said yes. He smiled tightly back, simultaneously wondering what the hell he just agreed to and happy that he did.

Being a Jennifer wasn't that hard. He put his design skills to use, still able to colour coordinate and match silks even after months of not being his older sister's dress up doll whenever she went to the mall. He put his bitchiest most unimpressed look on his face, hours of watching his mamma do it at his messes, perfecting it in seconds. He sighed, took a long glance at his helmet (which was placed in a box safely in his closet; he smirked at the irony) and walked out of the door.

Inside of his head, and only inside of it, he called himself "Jennifarlos." It was a bastardization of who he was and who he had to become. Theme music swirled around his head, bass heavy and mechanical in sound, as he walked up to the two girls that would become his only chance at a future.

He looked straight ahead as they flounced throughout the Palm Woods, face as blank as Kristin Stewart when she was delivering a dry retort that people never knew whether to laugh at or not. His chin was up, a slight sneer on his mouth, and he knew that he was perfect.

His friends thought that he had succumbed to Hollywood Fever, which was a convenient, if totally untrue, assumption. So when he saw James in the snow, laughing and a normal colour, he knew he had to give it up. Because as the perceived most susceptible of the group and James as the most pig-headed, James turning back to normal meant for certain that "sweet, naïve" Carlos had to as well.

And so he looked back at the Jennifers, both trying to cover themselves from the snowballs, and gave them a surreptitious nod. They gave him slight grins in return, understanding that they would have to deal with the rest on their own. They wiped the smiles off of their faces the moment Carlos laughed and took off his fedora, a fake "What are you doing?" coming from their mouths. He winked back at them, a movement so small that no one noticed, and joined his friends, laughing with them in the first time in what felt like ages.

After that day, he had been on good terms with the Jennifers, the blonde still not liking him, but the other two more than making up for it.

Then the subject of Prom came up. James joked, not for the first time, that if he and Carlos couldn't get dates, they would go stag together. Carlos hoped, not for the first time, that what James said would turn out to be true this year. Kendall, however, had to ruin it all by off-handedly mentioning the subject of prom king. James was on that in a second, declaring that he would get the perfect date, and Carlos knew that he was screwed, metaphorically speaking of course, once again. And so Carlos pretended to want to become prom king as well, and devised a ridiculous plan with Katie to get him a Jennifer for prom, something he knew any of the three would say yes to if he simply asked.

And then there was an even more ridiculous plan that the Jennifers created, so when he broke up with one of them, it wouldn't look weird. (And how they agreed to that one would stay between them, Carlos and the changing room in Abercrombie & Fitch.)

Everything was good for awhile. Not like it used to be, before Hollywood changed everyone, but to the point where Carlos could smile at his friends and have it be real. James started hanging out with the group more, Kendall and Logan separating long enough for the "third wheel" to become a non-entity.

Then Jo left. Kendall was devastated, Camille even more so, and that's when everything started to really fall apart.

*Jennifarlos*

Logan tried everything in his power to cheer up both Kendall (who lost his girlfriend, even if he didn't like her as much as he should've) and Camille (who lost her best friend, even if she liked her more than she should've.) James stayed out later and later, sometimes coming back in time for curfew, sometimes not. Katie finally gained more friends, after an all-ages dancing troupe moved into the Palm Woods, and Carlos was never as close to Ms. Knight than the other three boys in her care were. So he hung out by himself, watching everyone at the pool wistfully.

And then a shadow crossed his path. As he looked up that one shadow became three, and as he looked up all the way, the shadows became the forms of the Jennifers. They smiled at him, gentle on all their faces, and there was no hesitation in him when he took one of their hands, following them up to their room.

It wasn't all that bad at first. He would hang out with the Jennifers when Logan was too wiped to do anything other than hold Kendall's head to his shoulder or swipe off Camille's tears (no more infrequent than when Jo first left). When James started coming back with love bites too rough to come from a girl. When all he wanted to do was read Harry Potter on his platform, but Katie was plotting there with her friends. He hung out with them when all he wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry until nothing came out, but he never could because he was never alone.

Then one day, after Kendall gave up on his apathy and Camille started to slap Logan once again, James came into the apartment with Dak Zevon.

Carlos knew what was coming even before James could open his mouth to say it, so his plastered smile was rearing and ready to go once the inevitable crashed around him.

Though he was expecting it, the words "So, Dak and I are dating," still came as a blow to the stomach for him. He surged to his feet with the rest of them, clapping James on the shoulder and shaking Dak's hand, because no matter how jealous Carlos was, Dak wasn't a bad guy. He was on autopilot, grinning and nodding, all the while holding back the bile that wanted to come up from his empty calorie lunch.

The second he could, he ran up to the fourth floor, pounding desperately on the door of 4B, calling out. The moment a Jennifer, he honestly didn't know which one, nor did he care, came out, he launched himself into her arms, shaking and crying with the intensity he had never allowed himself to before.

And that's when Carlos knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

*Jennifarlos*

The first thing his friends noticed was the fact that he had stopped wearing his helmet. They shrugged it off, and Carlos heard Logan whispering that this was a good thing because it meant he was acclimating to the LA change. Carlos inwardly rolled his eyes at that one. Logan would make a horrid psychologist.

The second thing they noticed was the fact that there were hair and facial products in the bathroom that didn't belong to James. They didn't touch upon that one, Kendall thinking they were Logan's and Logan vice versa. James hardly blinked an eyelid and stole the product whenever he could get away with it.

The third thing, and third time's the charm as the unlucky say, that they noticed was the fact that when they got their paycheck, instead of coming home with hockey equipment, Carlos came back with shopping bags. Shopping bags, and a posse of Jennifers, that is.

Logan glanced up from his textbook he wasn't reading, Kendall from where he was attempting to steal Logan's textbook, and James from texting intently. They stared, open-mouthed, at Carlos, who had offered each a tight smile before disappearing into his room with the Jennifers in tow, all three heaving a glare at the still gaping boys.

The moment Carlos closed the door, heavily, and leaned back against it, he could hear Kendall frantically calling up Rocque Records. He smiled, bitter, and turned to look at the three women that were sitting on his bed.

"They'll notice you now," the blonde said kindly, finally warmed up to him (it turned out that the Jennifer he cried on was that one, which was the sole reason she didn't hate him anymore.)

He nodded, that not being his main point, but appreciative of the fact nonetheless.

The curly haired one, the one that had smiled at him right after he decided to become a Jennifer for the first time, ruefully looked at the blonde, offering Carlos a slight inclination of her head in camaraderie.

The brunette, Hispanic looking one, pouted at the room in general and exclaimed, as if to the ceiling, "now it's time for Carlos' makeover!"

Carlos rolled his eyes and insisted that he could do it himself. They all nodded at him, either in agreement or complacency, he didn't know, but didn't let him do anything himself anyway.

*Jennifarlos*

Nothing changed at the studio, something that Carlos was simultaneously grateful and incised for. He hated this conflict of emotions that seemed to spawn whenever he thought too long. He didn't know whether or not Kendall's call made Gustavo more likely to fire him, or less. At first, Carlos thought more likely, because he seemed to glare harder than usual when Carlos messed up a line, but when Carlos stopped messing up at all, he seemed to give that glare that meant he was slightly fond of what Carlos was doing.

He seemed to be in an apparent limbo, perpetually being tugged from one person to another, one emotion to another, one façade to another. He was sick, he was tired, and all he really wanted to do was curl up with a Jennifer (or all three) and sleep for the rest of his life.

But he couldn't do that. The first rule he appointed to himself as Jennifarlos was determination. That meant he would never quit, never show weakness and never, ever, mess up. He took that one to the extreme, practicing until he couldn't sing from his hoarse throat and his knees were buckling from hours of dance steps. He kept a permanent smile on his face throughout it all, happily exclaiming to his friends that he was having fun, all the while trying not to pass out.

The second rule, more superficial but no less important, was appearance. Being the only boy in a house of full of women made it so that from the time he could pick out clothes himself, he had an innate sense of fashion that even James lacked sometimes. However, he tripled his morning routine, his usual 15-minute get ready to go process, taking almost an hour. He wore Aeropostale, Abercrombie & Fitch, and even had an Armani suit for special occasions.

His third rule, the last and most important one of them all, was ambivalence in the face of hurt. His countenance was placid when things didn't go his way, when tears would gather in the backs of his eyes, when he couldn't go into his room because James was in there, once again, with Dak. If he was indifferent, then nothing could hurt him. He was an impenetrable force through which no one could touch him.

Kendall and Logan thought that it was Hollywood Fever talking, attempting to get him to play in the rink with them and throwing surprise snowballs in his face. However, he could tell that they liked Jennifarlos better than Carlos if their faces when he did a routine perfectly the first try, were any indication. And so, in deference to them, and for the sake of his own sanity, he stayed Jennifarlos, silently hovering above it all, never really interacting with anyone.

*Jennifarlos*

It had been two months since Carlos had completed his transformation into Jennifarlos. He wasn't happy, but he didn't feel the devastating pain that had encompassed him before. In fact, he didn't really feel anything anymore. Just brief flickers of emotion that would have swallowed him whole before, but could deal with effectively and pointedly now.

He was on the bright orange couch of their apartment, going through Vogue with blonde Jennifer, the other two on the floor painting each other's nails. Carlos was content, posture more relaxed than ever. He smiled easy whenever a Jennifer said something particularly scathing or dry-witted.

The foursome heard the door open, vaguely and in the back of their mind, but ignored it to pursue other trains of thought.

"Carlos," brunette Jennifer said, voice wispy and light, "Carlos, which colour do you think would look better with my skin tone?"

She held up two nail polishes that would go on her toes, and Carlos pointed to the forest green in her right hand. She nodded absently, sent him a grin in thanks, and handed the polish over to curly haired Jennifer.

"I can't believe that ugg boots are in again this season," blonde Jennifer complained, gesturing to the newly-opened pages of Vogue.

"I know," Carlos started, seeing movement out of the corner of his eye but not acknowledging it for now, "they weren't stylish the first time, why do people think they would be now?"

"I like ugg boots," curly-haired Jennifer defended vehemently.

"We know," came from the Vogue reading duo. They smirked at each other and lightly high-fived.

"What the fuck?" It was James.

Carlos sat up from his reclined position on the couch and his relaxed demeanor instantly became ramrod straight and purely Jennifarlos.

"Yes?" he asked politely, discreetly looking around for Dak.

"I was wondering," at this James seemed to pause, as if comprehending something for the first time, "I was wondering if you wanted to do something with me?" he finally asked, eyes never leaving their perplexed state.

"I've actually made arrangements," Jennifarlos stated coolly, voice low and without infliction, "and what about your date with Dak?"

"He had to cancel," James explained, flinching slightly at the name.

Jennifarlos zeroed in on that minute tic and descended, a vulture on its dying prey. "And how many dates has he canceled lately? One? Two? Five?" he fluttered his eyelashes, innocent expression turned ugly with the sneer twitching his cheeks.

"He's busy," James defended, "and I get that. I'm busy as well. It's why our relationship works out."

Jennifarlos nodded, face going blank once more, jealously safely tucked away the moment brunette Jennifer lightly touched his calf.

"You two are perfect for each other," curly haired Jennifer snorted, standing up and putting on her shoes.

"What does that mean?" James demanded, indignant when they simply walked around him as if he was not there.

"It means-" blonde Jennifer started once the foursome was out the door; she didn't turn around. "It means that while the two of you are inherently good people, neither of you cares about anyone but yourself. Your relationship works out because you do whatever the hell you want and he does the same and the both of you know that it isn't a real relationship. You're content because both of you know that you could drop each other on a dime and there wouldn't be hurt feelings. You're too scared to jump into the deep end head first, and that's why you're with Dak."

She stopped her tirade by Carlos' hand on her shoulder. He was the last one to leave and he shut the door lightly behind him, never once looking back.

*Jennifarlos*

The moment Carlos closed the door, blonde Jennifer stalked off to the elevator, the other three following in her wake.

She pressed the down button and when it didn't move right away, she opened the door to the stairs and started stomping down them.

The other two Jennifers and Carlos looked at each other, shrugged, and headed after blonde Jennifer. They got to the lobby, where the fast-moving Jennifer was already on the phone with a taxi company.

"The taxi should be here in ten minutes," she stated flatly, whirling about into the sunny day.

"You didn't have to do that," Carlos whispered once he caught up to her.

"Of course I did," she turned to face him and gave him a disarming smile, "you're my friend."

He stared at her, shocked and a little bit awed, while she continued to ramble on about how James needed to learn a lesson and how Carlos would not be second best to anybody anymore. While she was doing this, curly haired Jennifer and brunette Jennifer took his arms into theirs and leaned into him. He smiled at the three of them, the happiest he had been since coming to LA.


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: Sorry it took so long, I thought I could write last week, but camp took a shit-ton out of me.

Warning: The Thrace scale is going down, but is still significantly higher than I actually want it. A few more chapters of angst, I'm afraid.

Disclaimer: Still don't own. Will never own.

**Turning Tables- Chapter 1**

"I don't think that that's a good idea."

The blonde Jennifer sighed and threw her hair back. She turned to the brunette Jennifer (currently inspecting an art deco) as if to gain some support, wrinkled her nose, and turned back to Carlos.

"It'll work," curly-haired Jennifer stated before the other could open her mouth.

"It didn't work the last time, remember?" Carlos was resolute, arms crossed against his chest to prove his point.

"You didn't give it a chance the last time," blonde Jennifer explained, not unkindly but not nicely either.

"And it was going to work," brunette Jennifer finally popped up, smiling at the group, "because you were getting the solo. And then your producer wanted to see Kendall, and then we all fell into the room. And then you turned back to normal, so someone else got the solo instead. And then you decided to hang out with us again, and then we decided that you needed a solo. Remember?" She nodded, voice trailing off at the end.

The other three stared at her for a second before resuming their previous conversation.

"Carlos, you have to do it. You will never get the attention— and frankly the respect, you deserve if you don't."

Carlos looked unimpressed and curly-haired Jennifer sighed, removing his hands from their crossed position and placing them on her waist. She reached around his shoulders and hugged him, tightly and sincerely.

He looked up, surprised, before responding in full.

"You're always pushed into the background. You need to be front and center, where you deserve to be. You're so talented Carlos, and no one sees that because no one ever gives you the chance you're waiting for. You need to make your own chances. Show them how awesome you are. Show them that you can take the heat, take the pressure, and become a star."

"Go for it big time?" Carlos surmised, expression strangled with differing emotions.

"Yup," curly-haired Jennifer nodded, finally letting go.

Carlos looked around the room, looked at each of the three Jennifers in the eyes, and nodded. It was slight, minute, but there nevertheless.

"Okay. Let's do this."

**~*Jennifarlos*~**

"I would like to write one of the songs on the next album."

"Excuse me?" Gustavo turned around and stared at Carlos, bewildered, with the first traces of anger seeping into his face.

"You heard me," Carlos stood, defiant, and stared their producer down, "I would like to write one of the songs for the next album."

"No! Absolutely no way in hell will I have you, of all dogs, write one of the songs. Do you not understand how important your sophomore album is? It shows that you aren't a one-hit wonder! You will be if I let you write a song!"

Jennifarlos stood calm in the literal face of his enraged producer. "I've played the piano since I was five-years-old. I've taken a music theory class and learned how to play guitar two years ago. I've written music before, I've written lyrics before, I know I'm good. You will give me a chance, Gustavo, or I'll make sure to take every single solo that you dole out to the other guys."

Gustavo stood there for a second, gaping, before breaking out into a smirk unlike anything else Carlos had ever seen.

"You're figuring it out, kid," he finally stated, patting Carlos roughly on the back, "so I'll give you three days to write a song and perform it for me. If it passes my test, then I'll let you put it on the next album."

Carlos smiled, forgetting himself for a moment in his happiness.

"I won't let you down!" he promised, running off to a practice studio.

"There's the old Carlos," Gustavo muttered to himself, tamping down the smile he knew would break, "I was wondering where he went."

**~*Jennifarlos*~**

No one knew about Carlos writing a song. He, in all honesty, didn't think that anyone would want to. Carlos knew that, even with his "Hollywood Fever," the rest of the guys wouldn't take him seriously.

So he would wait. Wait until he finished the song, wait until Gustavo let them record it, wait until the cd came out with the song accredited to himself.

It was a vicious catch-22. His friends wouldn't take him seriously until he did something to show that he was serious, but if he showed them that he was serious, they still wouldn't take him seriously. His head practically spun at the thought.

And so he did what any person desperately attempting to hide what they were doing, did. He holed himself up in the Jennifers' apartment and wrote there. Even when the guys knew that he was hanging out with the Jennifers, they wouldn't dare go up to their apartment to find him.

He paused at that thought, music slowly drifting to a standstill. When was the last time any of the guys asked if he wanted to hang out with them? He contemplated that for a while, pursing his lips and blinking hard when he realized the answer.

To distract himself, he glanced over at the music sheet once more and tried a different chord.

"Better," he murmured to himself, scratching out the previous notation and replacing it with the newer one.

He heard the door open and looked up, smiling when blonde Jennifer appeared.

She rolled her eyes at him and put her purse down, taking off her shoes while she was at it.

"You know that when we said you should get a solo on the next album, this wasn't what we had in mind, right?"

"I think this will do more to improve my reputability," he shrugged, strumming another chord, shaking his head once it faded out, "besides, I like actually writing the song. It's therapeutic."

"Yes, well," blonde Jennifer sniffed, haughtily like the rest of her pose indicated, "it will do you no good when you don't actually sing the song you wrote, will it?"

"I'm getting to that," Carlos replied calmly, "it's simple, really. Once Gustavo likes the song, I just tell him that to get the exact emotion correct, I have to sing it. I say that if I don't, it jeopardizes the song's integrity. Simple."

Blonde Jennifer hummed in agreement before looking at the clock and groaning. She slowly put her shoes back on and walked back to the door.

"I have to go and meet the other Jennifers for an audition. Will you be okay by yourself?"

Carlos nodded absentmindedly, pick in his mouth, already focused back on the music.

He glanced up when he heard the door close, losing himself once again in his thoughts.

**~*Jennifarlos*~**

It was late. Not late enough for him to get in trouble for breaking curfew, but enough to where dinner was already finished and cleaned up. He walked into the apartment, quietly and watchfully, breathing a sigh of relief when he didn't see anyone in the main room.

He placed his guitar down in the corner of the room, and turned to scrounge through the fridge for leftovers. Or, he would have scrounged if, when he turned, there hadn't been the determined figures of Kendall and Logan waiting for him at the kitchen table.

"Hey, what's up guys?" he asked cheerfully, voice only wobbling in shock for a split-second.

"Where have you been?" It was Kendall, straight to the point as always.

"Out," he replied, making his way over to the fridge and opening the door, grimacing at the measly options within.

"Out where?" Kendall asked, voice toned low so he was demanding, not asking.

Jennifarlos rolled his eyes and turned to face the two of them.

"With the Jennifers," he stated evenly, his slight smile betraying the only emotion on his face.

"You know that they won't date you, right? That you can't date the three of them?" That one was Logan, voice perpetually raised as if poised to give a lecture.

"Contrary to popular belief, Logan," Jennifarlos started, voice dripping in condescension, "I am not an idiot. I don't want to date any of the Jennifers, nor will I ever."

"Dude, he was just saying-"

Kendall was interrupted by Logan's hand on his shoulder. Logan nodded to Carlos, urging him to keep speaking.

Carlos stopped, eyes ping-ponging between Kendall's still angry stare, and Logan's sympathetic eyes. He paused for a second, wondering if this was the moment that he had been waiting for. If this was the moment where he could tell his friends everything he had been wanting to say. If this was the moment that he could finally trust someone other than himself and the three girls that had become his salvation.

"I just-" he started, "I just- I- I don't-"

He was interrupted by the door opening and James' giggling voice calling out a goodbye to Dak.

He shut his mouth, hiding his face in the fridge once more, waiting for James to just leave the room so he could talk to Kendall and Logan before he lost his nerve. He stayed there while James chatted about his date with Dak, stayed there when Kendall and Logan tersely replied, obviously attempting to get him to go away as well, stayed there until he heard the noise of boots clattering into their bedroom, the soft click of the door behind them.

Carlos turned back around for the last time and faced the questioning stares of Logan and Kendall.

"Why don't you want to talk to James as well?" Logan asked, voice soft as if trying not to scare an injured animal.

Carlos let out a strangled bark of a laugh and shook his head. He hoped that would put his point across.

"It's about James," Kendall stated, effectively sapping out the words Logan was about to utter.

"Or, at least some of it is," he added at Carlos' raised eyebrow.

"It's about a lot of things," Jennifarlos conceded, nodding minutely, "I suppose you could say that James was an initial reason."

"What are the other things?" Logan inquired, eyes wide and bright with suppressed sadness.

"Lots of things. Things you wouldn't understand. Things I don't even understand, to be completely honest. Just, so much."

And with that he turned away and started walking to his shared room, nerve lost in the eyes of their pity.

"You're not really in Hollywood Fever anymore, are you?" Kendall called out from behind him.

"I never was." It was simple, stated so quietly that Kendall and Logan had to strain to accurately hear it.

Their sharp intakes of breath confirmed that they did, indeed, hear, and Carlos continued walking.

**~*Jennifarlos*~**

He stepped into his bedroom, vaguely noticing James bopping along to his iPod while reading a fashion magazine. He gave a short wave, things not being all that comfortable between them ever since James' confrontation with the Jennifers. James gave a curt nod in return, glancing up for only a split second, before his eyes flickered down to the glossy pages once more.

Carlos sighed, inaudible, and set off to get ready for bed. He had been exhausted lately, and while he knew why, he didn't acknowledge the inevitable truth as actual fact. He sluggishly pulled off his clothes and replaced them with pajama pants, falling into bed without brushing his teeth.

One more day, and he wouldn't have to hide anymore. One more day, and he could stop thinking about chords all hours of the night. One more day, and he could stop worrying about it being perfect, because the deadline meant it was as good as it was going to get. One more day, and he could sleep with minimal ease again.

He wanted to be a songwriter so bad, but if every song took this much out of him, he didn't know if he could conceivably manage having that job. Of one thing was for certain, though, he commended Gustavo for being able to still do it after so many years.

"Are you all right, man?" It was James, earbuds out and voice lilted to imply that their brief dispute earlier that week was all but forgotten.

"I'm fine," Carlos smiled, tilting his head over so he could see James.

"Are you sure?" James asked, sitting up slightly in his bed, magazine falling to his lap.

"Totally, man. Why do you ask, though?" Carlos made his voice upbeat for that, attempting to stay in a character he barely remembered.

"Nothing, I guess. Just wondering." At that, James laid back down, eyes confused but not saying anything regardless.

"How are you?" Calos blurted out, wincing at the pathetic tone of 'please, please notice me' that must have come out of his mouth.

"Hmmm?" James looked at Carlos for a second before responding, "Oh, I'm okay. Hanging out with the guys."

"You had a date tonight." Carlos pointed out, mentally groaning at his stupid question. He did not want to hear the answer, so why was he so masochistic?

"I did," James nodded to himself, as if he forgot, and paused before finishing the rest of his statement, "Jennifer was right."

"What do you mean?" Carlos asked, bewildered and more than a little surprised.

"What she said about why I was dating Dak. She was right."

He hastened to explain at Carlos' blank face, mistaking it for confusion.

"She said that I was only dating him because I wouldn't care if we broke up. That I would be okay with it, because while I like him, I'm not emotionally invested in our relationship." He shrugged, staring hard at his bed sheets, refusing to look in Carlos' direction.

"That can be good, though," Carlos started, rolling his eyes because, seriously, why was he giving James advice on how to keep a relationship going?

"What do you mean?" James asked.

Carlos sighed and brutally admonished himself inside of his head. "I mean, because sometimes you need fun relationships, right? Because you're not ready, and the other person isn't ready for a real one, but you both want the benefits of being in one. There's nothing wrong with being in a relationship with someone that you like, but aren't willing to take the plunge with."

After that he shrugged, a blush on the tips of his ears the only thing giving away his embarrassment.

"I guess." James looked at him oddly, the same look he gave Carlos when he walked into the living room and asked if he wanted to hang out.

"What?" Carlos asked, voice pitched low and steady, as if being scrutinized didn't make him supremely uncomfortable.

"Nothing." James shook his head, eyes going back to normal once more.

"Okay, whatever man. G'night."

And with that Carlos turned around to face the wall, slipping his covers to his shoulders, and closed his eyes.

**~*Jennifarlos*~**

After twenty minutes of Carlos hearing James' steady breaths and slowly falling asleep to them, he was awoken by the sound of rustling sheets. Footsteps padded towards his bed, and he tensed when he felt his mattress dip with the weight of another person.

"You're so different and I can't figure out why," came James' voice, obviously thinking that Carlos was asleep.

Carlos held still, keeping his breathing pattern regular, and listened to the rest of James' speech.

"It's like, sometimes you're Carlos, my best friend who I can play hockey with and wrestle, but other times it's like you're this entirely new person. But, it's like you're not actually new, but trying to be. It's confusing. I don't like it. And I want to figure it out, but you know I'm not good with people, so-" he cut himself off, chuckling dryly and moving back to his bed.

Carlos drifted off to sleep once more, thoughts and James' words swirling throughout his head, making him uneasy in their truth.

"Sometimes I just miss my friend," he heard James mutter.

'Sometimes I miss mine too,' he thought, before falling asleep for the final time that night.


End file.
